I am a board member and the volunteer director of medical and

The words of Margaret Cuomo—“I am a board member and the volunteer director of medical and scientific content for Less Cancer.”—are spoken not with pride, but with purpose. They carry the quiet strength of one who serves not for recognition, but for the preservation of life itself. In this statement lies the spirit of duty and stewardship, the same spirit that guided the healers and teachers of old. Cuomo’s words remind us that service to humanity, especially in the battle against disease, is a sacred calling—one that transcends wealth, status, or reward. To give of oneself freely for the sake of others is to embody the ancient ideal of the physician as guardian of both body and spirit.

The organization Less Cancer stands as a modern sanctuary of this mission. Its purpose is not merely to cure, but to prevent—to arm humanity with knowledge before illness takes root. This principle echoes the wisdom of ancient medicine, when healers sought to restore balance before sickness appeared, believing prevention to be the truest form of healing. In taking her place as a volunteer, Cuomo joins this lineage of those who act from compassion rather than command, from service rather than self-interest. Her work is a continuation of the timeless belief that the healer’s greatest power is not found in the scalpel or prescription, but in education, awareness, and the protection of future generations.

Consider the story of Dr. Rudolph Virchow, the 19th-century pathologist who once said, “Medicine is a social science, and politics is nothing but medicine on a larger scale.” He, too, left the comfort of the laboratory to fight for cleaner water, safer housing, and better education for the poor of Berlin. He saw disease not merely as a biological event but as a reflection of neglect—of what society had failed to teach, to build, or to protect. Like Virchow, Cuomo’s role in Less Cancer carries the same conviction: that true healing begins not in hospitals, but in communities; not after the diagnosis, but before it.

Her words also remind us of the power of volunteering, an act as ancient as civilization itself. In every era, there have been those who stand between humanity and despair—not because they must, but because their conscience will not let them do otherwise. To volunteer one’s time, to labor without promise of gain, is an offering of the soul. It is a declaration that one’s life belongs not only to oneself, but to the greater good. Cuomo’s service as both board member and volunteer is thus a living parable—a reminder that true leadership is found not in command, but in contribution.

In a world where so many chase profit and position, Cuomo’s declaration is a return to principle. It tells us that knowledge, when hoarded, loses its power, but when shared, becomes salvation. Every trained voice that teaches the public how to live healthier, every scientist who translates data into understanding, becomes a warrior against ignorance—the most silent of diseases. Her commitment to “medical and scientific content” is therefore not mere work; it is a weapon in the war for human longevity, wielded through education, clarity, and truth.

The ancients taught that the healer’s greatest virtue was phronesis—practical wisdom, born of empathy and guided by reason. Cuomo’s service embodies this virtue, reminding us that intellect without heart is empty, and compassion without knowledge is blind. By joining hands with Less Cancer, she weaves intellect and compassion into one thread of purpose, stretching from the modern laboratory back to the temples of Asclepius and the healing huts of distant lands. Her example teaches that the work of the healer is never finished, for as long as ignorance exists, so too does suffering.

Let us then draw from her example a lesson for our own lives: that each of us, in our own way, can be a guardian of life. Whether through teaching, volunteering, or simply living with awareness, we can help build a world with less disease, less fear, and less despair. Knowledge is the flame, service the hand that carries it. And when both burn together—as they do in Margaret Cuomo’s life—the darkness of illness retreats before the dawn of understanding. So may we too become keepers of that light, giving of ourselves not for glory, but for the quiet triumph of healing and hope.